IceWalker
by zaksgirllol
Summary: What if Darwin was right, what if evolution is the only way to survive?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters are mine by right, I thought of them first so go find your own.

Have you ever felt alone; utterly and completely isolated from everyone you have ever loved, loathed, or even held an inkling of respect for? Most would say yes without thought, but I know better.

I wish I didn't.

The year was 2090, peacetime was scarce. Everyone was fighting each other for resources: food and water became enough to kill for. Scientists were blaming government for its blatant desecration of the planet, and governments were blaming scientists for lack of warning. Pole reversal. Two simple words that sent entire continents into panic. North became South, floods and droughts were more and more common. Nations that once had plenty became refugee camps. Order became a losing battle: riots and gang wars were over running the streets. And then The Storm came. All previous weather events we knew could be predicted, logic could understand how it would function. The Storm defied logic, defied knowledge, and destroyed my world.

It hit on a Tuesday; the snow was mild at first, growing slowly and increasingly more difficult until even the cleanup crews could not keep up. Mountains of snow banks grew in typically warmer climates. Young and elderly alike became trapped inside their homes. Quickly after the storm started, the temperature began dropping, by midday it was 10 below with increasing wind chills, by evening it was negative 30 and dropping. The Northern hemisphere was under serious snow conditions and the southern hemisphere was dealing with severe droughts, fires, and then uncontrollable rain. No where was safe. Millions died tragic deaths. Many thought I was amongst that original number. How I wish I had, but then again there wouldn't be a tale to tell if I hadn't survived.

The human race is a fascinating tale of evolution, over the ages small adaptations occur in the genetic structure; often in response to some climatic change. Sometimes these changes are useless protein codes, other times adaptations make themselves known in other manners such as physical traits: Height, weight, etc. Most times these adaptations are not even noticed within the population. I doubt anyone would have noticed that several hundred people within the population had begun a genetic mutation against the rapid and catastrophic climate change. My family had always been resilient to the cold, unusually adapted to our surroundings in the frozen tundra in Alaska. Our forefathers lived and died here. They say snow flows in our blood; apparently enough so, to develop the start of a biotic antifreeze.

Its amazing what the ice and cold can do to preserve a body. The brain ceases to function, the heart rate slows, and your body becomes numb. This is what I will endure for what seems like a thousand years. Trapped within my own mind, forgotten by the outside world because I had an adaptation. That small adaptation was the only thing that saved my body from being destroyed centuries ago.

I was caught outside my childhood home when The Storm hit, the weather changed from bone chilling cold to instant frostbite. Many suffered days of starvation and carbon monoxide poisoning, I guess I was lucky to have been knocked unconscious by the sudden temperature drop. It made being imprisoned in snow easier. What little I remember, is from the fear of being trapped.

Eventually, I, like so many others, gave up trying to survive. It was a miracle that they found my body. Archaeologists decades later, unearthed my home. It was the least ravaged of the area, and had a museum with many cultural and historical artifacts. They claimed it was like rediscovering Pompeii, except the bodies they found were mostly intact or pure skeletal remains. Only three bodies were found in pristine condition; myself, my son and a cousin. All three had the same mutation it appears. Multiple tests and scans were done to attempt to see why we were the only ones preserved perfectly. Attempts were made first on my young cousin, a girl around fifteen years of age, to thaw her body and preserve it in a better fashion than a thick block of ice. The only thing I remember is the screams of torture when they placed her body into a thermal heat tank. She died shortly afterwords. The head researcher was in shock, no one thought to check to see if we still lived. For weeks before and after, he stayed after hours and talk to us. He wanted desperately to tell his ideas and attempts to free us, as if we could solve his queries without communication. He committed suicide shortly after Mishka's death.

A year later, they attempted a similar process with my son. My precious little boy, he was three years old, and I thought at the time, long in the arms of death with his grandmother. When the scientists realized the family connection, the cruelty bordered on inhuman. They placed our ice blocks within eyesight of the other. For the first time in years, my little one was within eyesight.

It was better when I thought him dead.

I could see he was trapped within his own mind and close to death when they slaughtered him. That is the only word that can come close to the violence they used on my child. No moral ethics, no safety measures, no kind words to soothe him: just chisels and hammers. They thought to remove a majority of the ice prior to placing him in a heat bath. I have to give them credit, they got rather close to the skin before they killed him. A chisel nicked his jugular vein and the impacts of the hammers breaking the ice broke his sternum. He never stood a chance.

Its funny that I should speak of those who allowed my imprisonment. After The Storm came, those that survived banded together. Old feuds and hatreds were buried in the need for survival. Eventually the world forgot and moved on. Then they remembered distant memories of The Storm. Science again was in a Renaissance. Historians began re-writing literature, histories, and theology. For what seems like eternity I was frozen in this prison of ice: first, in a laboratory where they hoped to release me, then in a museum, in memory of those who fell in The Storm. When people heard how I was still alive within, the protests began against my imprisonment. All attempts to release me previously had failed however. Eventually, people gave up and simply came to voice their problems and simply have me listen. I learned so much during those years. The sound of a voice speaking to me was one of the few ways I didn't loose my sanity even if my brain wasn't functioning properly. Eventually, wars started again and the visits stopped. The human race was dying out, my storm had wiped out many of the academic communities, legislative bodies, and religious leaders. The world was quickly tumbling into chaos. And all I could do was watch. Eventually, they moved me back into the laboratory to attempt a final release, but war once again broke out and the scientists fled leaving me behind.

The laboratory I was enclosed in quickly fell into disrepair, the only thing still working was the generator that continued to pump cold air into my cell to prevent thawing. The rest of the equipment was broken or disassembled by thieves or by the scientists themselves. After all, if they could not publish their work, why should anyone else. Not even those overly curious would come and speak to me anymore. I could feel my mind starting to lose its sanity. Slipping in and out of conscious, I kept my silent watch. Had I been able, I probably would have taken my own life.

Eventually, my lab started crumbling around me. For the first time I could see glimpses of sky. And oh how beautiful it was, like looking at perfection. The sky was a shade of blue I had forgotten even existed. The clouds were light and fluffy, instead of the dark, oppressing, gray black from The Storm years. Its the kind of clouds children would lay on a mountain top and guess what sort of creatures they resembled. One particularly looked similar to a bunny; enough so, that I long to feel anything but the touch of ice against my skin.

It wasn't long after that day, when I received my first visitors in ages. At least, I think it was a long while. However, they were not modern looking in appearance: not completely. They appeared like the creatures of old stories and fables. The ones of wizards and magic. There were four in total: one elderly man with a long beard, a young apprentice of sorts, who looked to be new to his position, and two warriors, both of which reminded me strongly of King Arthur's Court. How odd. But in all my years believing one thing, I found it hard pressed to understand these new strange ways. The young apprentice made quick work of creating a fire and reasonable shelter from the rubble. The elderly man amused the boy with what sounded like stories. From what I could catch of their language, it was an interesting one. More guttural like German but with the rhythm and fluidity found in Gaelic. It reminds me of a memory from long ago. One with a laughing man with kind blue eyes; it makes my heart ache thinking of it.

Within two hours, they had a roaring fire going with what looked like a lovely stew roasting; that's when the warriors returned from what I can only presume was a perimeter search. Not like they needed to do such, they were my first visitors in ages. But caution is a much better use of one's time than being ignorant to one's surroundings.

None of the group appeared to notice my presence, like I was a simple piece of the wall. In my way, I guess I was. They seemed so majestic. Indestructible, but I knew what folly being indestructible could be. Arrogance destroys more than just nations. Any who claim to be indestructible are either too dumb to realize they are asking for trouble or hoping to die quickly. But I'm drifting again. If only they spoke a bit louder I could hear what they were saying. Learn what new world evolved from my old broken one. By the looks of their clothing, it could be a feudal system. The rules and protocols they adhere to seem to fit into the caste system as well. None touch the old man, as if he were too holy for them to even be in the same room or like a leper ostracized from all they know. My bet would be on the former. He has that sense of authority, of power, pure and simple. Funny how things like that remind you of the past; when pretend could be anything you wanted it to be. How I miss those days.

Oh look, the child has caught sight of me. So long as he doesn't try to poke me with a sword all should be well. Then again, death would be a welcome reprieve. The looks on the warriors faces are priceless though. They thought they were all big and bad to be out shown by a young child. Idiots. And here comes the curious committee. Oh Joy. Quick look like I'm frozen in ice... Oh wait that's right. I already am.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All characters are mine, I thought of them so find your own.

My name is Belac Lagennod, I am a squire for his Lordship Nemor Raseac. We have been traveling through the countryside of the ancient land of USA. Whatever that meant. My Lord tells me that this was once the pride of all the kingdoms. That no man was considered better than others. I find that hard to believe. There are always peasants to feed the nobles. Our companions consist of two fully trained warriors. Or, at least, so my Lord tells me. These fools could not protect a princess from a fly, much less my Sire from any danger. Fortunately, I am well versed in the use of daggers. My size may fool you into believing I am weak, certainly these two do. Both are nobles sons off to find adventure before retiring to their estates.

Sir Lonathe Lesied is the heir to the Earl of Northern Territories. Being from such a prominent family has done nothing for his personality. He is very quiet, aloof in most things. Everything about his personality screams for people to stay away. His complexion is darker, deep auburn hair and dark eyes with a pale face. As much as he screams danger, I have yet to see him apply any skill beyond orders. Those, he is quite fond of. Humph, Nobles.

Our other esteemed companion is the second son of the Duke of Cannon or some such rot. Where Sir Lonathe is dark, Sir Cam Elppa was as light as light could be. His hair is brighter than summer sun shining against polished metal. The color of his eyes reminds me of ice. The only dark part to him was his skin. He was a deep mahogany, like the stories my master tells me of the natives that used to roam this land. Their personalities seem to match their descriptions; one is dark and quiet as night, the other is bright and cheerful as day. Funny how that works.

"BOY"

Belac looks up quickly from his observations, "Yes, sir."

"Stop dawdling and get the dinner started," says Sir Lonathe.

"Yes sir, I was just wondering about the statue against the wall sir."

"Pay no head to it, relic from a time better left forgotten probably." Sir Cam nods his head in agreement. "Better leave it to your betters, boy. If it is of importance, we'll let you know." And with that Sir Cam picks up his sword and scans the area around the statue he only just noticed.

The area is dark, the statue was well hidden in an alcove of sorts. Disassembled machinery surrounded it except for one. Odd. Most of the Ories held little functional equipment. What made them leave this? What made it so special? Walking closer, Cam carefully placed a machine between him and the statue.

"Hey Lonathe, come take a look at this. Its some sort of ancient cooling system, it must be nearly twice as cold over here."

"Will you stop fooling around Cam, seriously there are bandits everywhere. You know that the King's men are looking for us. Not to mention, every person who wishes to earn favor. Leave it be. At this point it can only cause trouble."

"Oh come on Lon, aren't you the least bit curious. Even the kid is curious." Cam said, as he was getting closer to the statue. "Look at this Lon, its a person. Or at least, I think it was. Why would they put a person in ice?"

"What are you talking about, you idiot. People don't put other people on ice. Not unless their dead and waiting burial, at least. Now stop fooling around, I don't care what you've found. We need to finish with the perimeter. Then you can fantasize about whatever it is you think you've discovered." With that Lonathe started walking back out toward the door, sword at his hip swinging slightly.

"Lon, I'm serious. There is a person in this thing. Who knows how long they've been stuck in there. If they are even still alive. You want to just leave them there for the next group to find this place. And you know as well as I do, that when we leave this place others are bound to find it. A fluke might have brought us here, but our tracks are not well hidden. All a tracker needs is a bit of luck and we're had."

"Dammit Cam, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Just come here and look is all I'm saying. What could it hurt?"

Lonathe sighed as he walked over, "Alright Cam, what has you fascinated this time?"

"Humph, just take a look."

As he walked over, Lonathe took in the surroundings; the rusted chair thrown into the corner, the various broken down Ories equipment. The statue stood maybe six feet in height and three in width. The base was the only thing in the room that looked like it might still work, and by the temperature change he would bet still did. When he glanced up at the statue, all he saw was piercing blue eyes staring back at him and then they blinked.

"Creepy, isn't it" Cam said.

"Did you see that?"

"See what, Lon?"

"It blinked, I'm sure of it."

"Come off it Lon, that's not funny." Cam looked decidedly unsettled at the thought of a live person icicle.

"They trapped a live person in there Cam, I'm sure of it. Help me figure a way to get it out. That's just cruel to abandon a person in there like this. What could they have possibly done to deserve this?" At that he moved around the ice block pressing various buttons hoping to release the statue.

Inside of what was now deemed "the statue", it's victim was quite amused by the situation. This was the first time anyone truly thought, selflessly, to free her. Actually, it was the only time someone tried to. Sure there were protests held to at least attempt to free her. But the scientists always said it was too dangerous. Well if these two novices would hit the off switch on the freeze unit, then who was she to complain. Amazing how long fusion power runs for isn't it?

Meanwhile, Lonathe was pressing buttons around the base of the machine. Cam was trying to figure out what was powering it. Suddenly, a loud beeping noise appeared.

"What did you do, Lon? Sounds like you tripped an alarm or something."

"I'm not sure. Maybe we should have just taken the block from the stand? Moved it next to the fire? That might work too."

"Umm, Lon? Why is it flashing red underneath the statue?"

Suddenly, all they can feel is heat emitting from the machine. Slowly the block of ice begins to melt.

"Well, I would say you figured out how to free it, Lon." Cam said as he clapped his friend on his back. Lonathe just stood in astonishment.

Heat. That's what I feel. For the first time in centuries I feel the brush of heat against my body. What did those idiots do? Why did they have to release me? Oh God, the heat feels like flames licking against my body. When I get my hands on those two idiots, I am going to kill them for putting me through this pain. Hopefully, they have the sense to catch me when I fall. Or at least to make sure I don't break my neck. Oh I think I can move my fingers now. What an amazing feeling. I wonder what the grass feels like beneath my toes. Is it the same softness as it was in the North? Or has the grass changed to the hard sharp blades of the South? Funny, I can't recall where this Lab is located. I've been moved so many times its insane. Or maybe its just me that is insane.

Focus, soldier, Focus. Your drifting again. Keep eye contact with the Tall One. He's the one so determined to get you out, then he can very well take the consequences. Interesting, why is he wearing that look of horror. Am I melting? Quick check... nope not me, but wasn't I wearing clothes before this all started? Ah, so that's his problem. I am now melting and naked. Good, I can corrupt his good sensibilities. That's what you get for releasing me without knowing how. Both of us might as well suffer. It feels like hot metal slicing through my skin, I guess if I don't end up with third degree burns I might feel grateful. My legs feel so weak and tight, my only hope is the muscles can regain their strength quickly to get the hell out of here and away from these morons. And there goes the last bit of ice holding me up, here goes nothing.

My voice is rasping around swollen muscles, decayed in their lack of use "Catch me" I utter before blacking out to this new foreign world.

Lonathe and Cam just stared at the now melting statue in fear.

"What have we done, Cam? Look at the agony on its face, what could create that? Do you think the machine is heating it too fast?"

"I should get the Lord, he will know what to do." Cam looked panicked.

"After not consulting him to release it? Besides, he's probably already foreseen this." Lonathe looked up and noticed that the clothes were practically disintegrating around the form. "Cam go and grab a cloak or a blanket quickly."

Lonathe turned to watch him rush off to find the required items and notify the Lord of the new development when he heard a faint noise.

As he looked back to The Statue, he heard "Catch me" whispered from the lips of the now identifiably female form prior to the form collapsing. Only the grueling training as a knight saved her from breaking her neck against the ground and completely ending her life.

"What do I do with you now? We can't very well leave you alone can we, you wouldn't survive a night on your own." Lonathe looked down on her pale form and noticed for the first time the pale features, high cheekbones, dark flowing hair that desperately needed a good cleansing and faint pink lines running across her exposed collar bone and shoulders. Like battle scars. What was a woman doing with battle scars? Was she a prisoner, and her punishment was life encased in ice? How horrible had been her crime if that was the case.

"Here Lon, this is the best I could find for right now." Cam said as he handed over a very beaten up cloak. "Is it alive?"

"Yes Cam, SHE is alive. Or as alive as you can be after being frozen for who knows how long."

"Well, lets get her over to the fire then. Keep heating her up. Maybe the Lord has some suggestions."

"Probably a good idea. She barely weighs more than a feather. Did you inform the Lord of our additional company?"

"Like he didn't already know? By the time I went back for the cloak, he asked that we not delay and bring the Lady over. Wonder how he knew it was a woman?" Cam cocked his head at Lonathe as he watched the taller man cradling the seemingly fragile woman in his arms. "What do we do with her now, Lon?"

"I suspect the Lord has an idea, Cam." More than we know, my friend. More than we know.

"Do you need help bringing her over to the fire?" Cam asked, curiosity and concern lacing his voice.

"And let you grope every inch of her? Not a chance, Cam, someone needs to save you from your next fiasco." Lonathe replied laughing. He picked her up as careful as he could and began walking back to the Lord Raseac. "Why do you suppose he called her Lady?"

"Who knows Lon, maybe he knows where she came from. But what I want to know is what she did to be encased in ice. Its like those old tales of the ice storms. You remember the ones about the king that raised his hand and encased the traitors and bandits in ice. Those stories used to give me nightmares. Can you imagine any length of time being frozen like that? And why did her clothes dissolve, I have never seen anything like that before." Cam's constant chatter what interrupted shortly by an elderly voice raised just slightly over the crackling of the fire.

"If you wouldn't mind gentlemen, I do believe the Lady would like to warm up after her ordeal. Belac go and fetch her a robe from my things. We cannot have anyone questioning her virtue before meeting her. And bring some of my herbs, I have a feeling she will wish to use some soon." Raseac stated in his omnipotent manner. "Sit down boys, no one is going to find us tonight." He smiled his genteel smile and focused back to the mysterious ice woman "You always do seem to find yourself in the most fascinating circumstances."

"Forgive my Lord, but do you know the Lady?" Lonathe asked. You could practically feel Cam vibrating with curiosity at his side.

"You could say that, more or less, I know of her. We have never been formally introduced. Many believe her to be a myth, a relic from a turbulent past. And in a way they are correct, she is part of our history but how much of it is due to her direct actions or even those that followed her. Well those are too numerous to count. Kings have sought her council over any topic imaginable, nations have tried to destroy her. The fact that she has remained unscathed for so long is unheard of. The King's father even asked her advice upon occasion. He refused to go to war without her council. And since he never lost a battle, I should say he found the answers he was looking for."

"What do we do with her Sir?" Cam asked "Surely, she would be in more danger with us than without us."

Lonathe shifted uncomfortably, "Even without an escort how will she survive? You act as though she comes from ancient times. This cannot be the case, how could she have survived?"

"A true stroke of luck, hopefully it will continue for I fear in the next few days we shall need our wits about us. For her life and for ours."

A slight groan from the otherwise motionless figure resting by the fire attracted the small parties attention. Belac was sitting next to her holding her hand. "Sir, I believe she might be taken with a fever. Shall I administer some herbs, or wait a bit?"

"No my dear boy, she is merely dreaming by the looks of it. Something I could imagine she not be familiar with anymore. Let her rest, we shall try to get some food in her on the morrow. She must be starving after her ordeal. Light, perhaps some bread and broth. That way her stomach can become accustomed to food again." Raseac looked over to see his normally impersonal servant concerned over a complete stranger. His face gentled and soothingly he spoke "Belac, would you mind taking first watch over our new charge? If her condition changes, wake me immediately."

"Yes Sir." Belac quietly settled into his position to watch his new charge.

The rest of the group settled quietly around the fire, lost deep in thought and questions. Waiting for the morning. The firelight played against a pale face, hinting at shadows and a deeper mystery. Even as they watched the woman relaxed into a deeper sleep, questions began forming in all their minds.

The next morning came faster than expected and the woman's condition had not improved. Belac settled himself next to her again with fresh water and cloths, attempting to bring her fever down.

"My Lord Raseac, we need to move. There is a ship nearby that would be able to ferry us across the Ocean, closer to my homeland. Once there, we will be safe for the time being. At least until the King gathers his armies. Even then, I am not sure how well I can protect you." Lonathe looked at him with concern, "Can we move the Lady? It grows more dangerous to stay here. All it would take is a good tracker to find our trail. Much of it is covered, but a clever man could do it."

"We have no choice but to move her with us Lonathe, she will be the key I am sure of it." Raseac looked as old as he felt at that statement. "I had hoped she could be roused by this point. However, it seems as though not even I can predict her movements. Contradictory things, women are." They both turned to gaze at the shivering figure.

"Best have Belac get your things together, as soon as Cam comes back with supplies we will be on our way." Lonathe then turned and began to gather anything that might assist them in the process of leaving. Even now he could see Belac moving quickly to pack things together to continue watching over the Lady.

"Lon, I've got the supplies. Enough to cover the crossing if we are careful with the supplies."

"Good job Cam, is the boat ready?"

"Stocked and prepped, enough space that even a woman could come on board, but..." Cam hesitated, glancing over his shoulder.

"What is it Cam?"

"You know sailors, a woman on board is bad news for them. Especially if they find out who she is."

Sighing, Lonathe looked exasperated. "Cam, we don't even know who she is. For all we know she could be some commoner that Lord Raseac has mistaken as a legend. Now we must move quickly. You will have to carry my gear if I have to carry her."

"She still hasn't awoken?"

"No, the fever still holds her in its grip. Are you sure you wish to continue on this trip? It will mean you will be disowned and dishonored at the least, executed at best." Lonathe looked at him, his closest friend and brother in arms.

"Someone has to keep your hands off the woman while she is defenseless, Brother. Besides why should you get all the glory." Cam brushed off Lonathe's concern with well practiced ease. "Come on friend, lets go rescue the damsel and slay the dragon." With that they both walked back to the fire side.

"Its time, my Lord. The tide is right and we will lose our chance of escape if we delay any further." Cam said as he picked up his and Lonathe's gear.

"I will carry the lady on board the ship, but she must remain below decks. If the sailors catch sight of her, well, lets just say we might have an uprising." Lonathe then reached down and as gently as he could picked up the woman who was still slick with sweat. "How long do you expect her to be out of it?" He said looking at Belac.

With a mistrusting look on his face, Belac replied "Probably another few days. Fevers are dangerous things. The sooner we get her warm, and fluids in her the better. I was just able to get some broth in her earlier. Practically swallowed the whole bowl. She must be starving, poor thing."

"Well at least we don't need to worry about her trying to talk like a man at least. We shall just say she is my younger brother, caught a fever and I am bringing him home to the Northern Territories to recover properly. Seeing as she has dark hair, and many in the Northern Territories do not cut the boys hair until they reach adulthood, this could work in our favor." With that he gently placed the lady, still clad in only a cloak, on his horse before climbing up after her.

It took the four of them on horse back most of the morning to reach the ship. Five if you counted the mysterious Statue. Her condition had still not improved and Lonathe feared riding any faster than he already was in her current condition. As they traveled, he could see Belac throwing concerned glances her way and they stopped frequently for him to administer the healing herbs. By the time they reached the ship, all of them were exhausted. The boat was small but large enough to have a crew of eight men; all from the Territories and all loyal to Lonathe. The boats' size might just be their salvation against the heavy war ships of the King. Small and maneuverable, the boat could slip unnoticed as a fishing vessel through the King's blockade. Looking over to his companions, Lonathe noted the weariness of his companions. Soon they could rest but not yet. Not just yet.

"Quickly, lets get everything on board. Belac, follow me below to the cabin. Bring your herbs, I fear our guest has gotten worse with the ride. Lord Raseac, we will need your assistance as well. Cam, the men will assist in loading the ship and readying to launch; you remember the way?" Lonathe said as he started moving to the ship.

"Yes Sir! You heard the man, you get these bags loaded. Careful of his Grace. Best get moving, young Belac." Cam continued in this fashion following the sailors that were carefully following orders and avoiding being overly curious about the cloaked bundle in their future Earl's arms. That was the surest way to face the end of his sword when he got into one of his moods.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Two weeks at sea and still she did not awaken. Her fever was finally diminishing and Belac was sure it would break within the next day or so. She was very weak. What little weight she had to begin with was decimated by the illness. She was still being feed broth and what little soaked bread they could get her to swallow. Maybe they should have just let her die. To rest with her loved ones. As Lonathe looked at her resting in the cabin, he could see how fragile she was. This was the woman who could change history? It hardly seemed possible that her ideas, her faith in humanity prevented what was said to be the largest war ever known. Was this what it felt like to stand before judgment? A foolish petitioner trying to gain favor amongst those of legend.

Lonathe gently pushed back her long black hair that kept coming loose from the simple braid Belac had done in her hair. She would sleep for at least another week. Maybe their fortune would hold, the sailors still hadn't caught wind of a woman on board. Eir was only a week away at this pace.

"Any change Sir?" Belac said from his slumped over form.

"No, not yet. Why don't you get some rest, I will watch for now." Lonathe said in a gentle tone. Not that he needed too. Belac was fast asleep almost before he finished speaking. Chuckling, Lonathe found a blanket and placed it over the boy. "Your a strange creature Belac. One day I will figure out just where your loyalty truly lies."

"Ah but that my son shall be most improbable. Young Belac holds many loyalties you cannot expect to understand all of them." Lord Raseac said from the doorway jolting Lonathe from his thoughts.

"Sir, I did not mean to intrude."

"Enough, Lonathe. We both know you wanted to see to her health yourself. You have become very protective of someone you have never met before. Curious is it not?" Raseac stated as he moved to the only free seat left in the small room.

"She is in need of help. Part of my oath is to assist any that need aid. Besides, who would imprison her in ice? No crime is worth that type of punishment. It is also my duty to ensure that you reach sanctuary. We know nothing about her. What if she is a murderer and being locked inside ice probably has not done much for her sanity. I would be remiss in my duty if I did not at least consider it."

"And her being the first woman to gain your attention has no bearing on your, ah how did you put it, duty?" Raseac looked at Lonathe with a knowing smile.

"She is a mystery pure and simple. What do you know of her. You said you knew things of her. Would you tell me?"

"You mean tell us, right Lonathe." Cam said as he sauntered through the door. "Crew says we are heading into a storm so we better hold tight. What we hold tight to I have no idea but I call dibs on the girl!" Cam dodged a well aimed punch from Lonathe. "Alright, Alright, you can have her first but seriously, who is she?" Cam looked over to Raseac as he perched on a overturned box.

"She was a legend, even in her own time. Most knowledge comes from rumors but all of them have one thing in common: sacrifice. Danger was no stranger to her, and family meant everything. They say she was charged with everything from high treason to assassination." Raseac said in his gravely voice. "The people of the world rose their voices in outrage over the accusations. She was a folk hero, a champion of the weak and powerless."

As Raseac spoke, the wind outside howled furiously. The seas could be heard beating against the hull of the boat. Cam and Lonathe shifted minutely. "Why, if the people favored her, did she end up in an ice prison?" Lonathe asked quietly.

"As I said, little truth is known of her. Less is known about her demise. I would assume her enemies were equally powerful. Her loyalty to her men at arms is still sung by the bards. Most, I daresay, have no idea of whom the songs were written about."

"What do you know about her, Lord Raseac? The true events, not the fiction created to scare children at night." Cam asked. Slowly, Raseac stroked his bearded chin.

"One of the least known of her tales, is how she sacrificed her life for the release of all of her company. She and her men were captured in an attack of the town she was said to frequent. How many men were captured has been lost to time, but the details of her captivity live on. One of the inquisitors kept a journal of her time in Hell's Gate. He wrote gruesome details of how she was tortured for three years, day and night. Racks, blades, rod, and hot iron; by the time one inquisitor finished another was preparing to begin. Her only respite was when they tired of her. To break her soldiers, they kept them all in the same room and forced them to watch as she was beaten and mutilated. Judging by her scars, I would daresay the tale is not too far from the truth." Raseac turned his gaze to the slender body resting in front of him. Silvery pale scars could be seen where the sheet and shirt had pulled from her body.

"Was her army not tortured as well?" A questioning voice asked. Cam's face was pulled together in a concentrated frown. "Such blatant cowardice is inexcusable. How could they call themselves men if a woman was being tortured in front of them and they stand and do nothing."

"Simply because she would not allow it." Raseac stated quietly.

"Wouldn't allow it? And the inquisitors listened to her?" Lonathe questioned.

"She is quite remarkable. Throughout her captivity, she refused to allow her soldiers to accept punishment. Each time she was tortured, she said naught a word of complaint. Needless to say many could not believe her strength of will. Her men jeered at the guards, throwing insults and curses. Every day, the head guard entered her cell and offered her an exchange: the lives and freedom for her men for a mere exchange of information. She politely smiled and said no."

"She must be mentally disturbed from the torture if she said no." Cam grumbled.

"Did they ever escape?" Belac's young voice whispered.

"Yes, her men walked right through the gates. The inquisitor who wrote the journal helped them. He grew fond of the Lady. One day she simply vanished from her holding cell, not even the inquisitor knew how she got away. But those are just rumors, I doubt even she will tell us her full story." Raseac gazed over at the fevered face, "My hope is that an illness will not defeat a champion of such strength and fortitude." The mood had turned introspective at that point. Lonathe looked over at Cam, similar thoughts running through their minds.

"What of her people. If she was captured surely they would have tried to assist her?" Cam asked.

"They did in fact try. I believe it was her second in command and rumored lover who lead the charge. Many men died and if memory serves me correctly, he died in the charge."

"A lover?" Lonathe asked intrigued.

"Yes, it was said that he fought like a man gone mad when she was captured. It was said that by only the sound of her voice, nations ceased fighting. After her disappearance, many of their allies fell to ruin." Raseac shrugged. "Infighting mostly, dreadful during a war. But I do believe the rest the Lady should tell you herself. There is much even I do not know." With that Raseac bid the good evening and, with a skill acquired over many years in court, directed them out without the two of them even realizing it.


	4. Chapter 4

A week later saw the small vessel docked on the notorious island of Eir. Unloading quickly, and locating and reloading new mounts was the least of the small parties problem. The small village they docked at was safe for the time being, however, for the Lady's safety they dressed her in Belac's spare clothes.

"There is a ruins about a half day's ride from here. We should be safe there. From what I can remember, it is said to be haunted and even the bandits and thieves do not go there." Lonathe said as he checked and rechecked his saddle. His mount was a pitch black monster, eighteen hands tall and with a temper that made the devil look angelic, the villagers were desperate to get rid of him. For some reason or other when Lonathe walked into the stable, the monster chose him as his rider. In fact, it scared all the other horses to the far side of the field except for two mares and two stallions. Astonished, the owner practically gave the horses away, muttering to himself of being free of the demon sidhe. Right now it seemed as if the beast wanted nothing to do with him at all.

"Cam, maybe you should take the Lady with you. I am unsure whether this mount will carry me much less the Lady." Lonathe looked at the horse dubiously.

"With pleasure Lon." Cam said as he mounted his own stallion. Where Lonathe's stallion was black as night, Cam once again found his opposite. This horse was a Bay, sixteen and half hands of pure power.

As Cam gestured for Lonathe to hand the Lady up to him, the pitch black nightmare roared to life and immediately placed himself in between Cam and Lonathe. Then the horse turned its head and, in only the manner a horse can, glared at Lonathe. The horse then reached its head to nuzzle the mop of hair that was currently resting over his heart. Amazingly, the horse was very gentle and left no marks on the Lady.

Astonished Cam looked over to Lonathe, "Guess that means I don't get to ride with her?"

"Apparently not. I wonder if when she gets healthy if I will even be allowed to ride with her. Question is: will we have a choice?" As Lonathe said this, the Lady began to move listlessly. Her fever broke two nights before docking but she still had yet to wake. Even Raseac was beginning to appear worried.

"Lets just get to the ruins as quick as we can. I have a feeling something big is about to happen." With that Lonathe secured both himself and his passenger to the monstrous beast and gave the order to move out. As he gave the order, the beast flexed underneath him, snorted and then leaped forward. It was all Lonathe could do to keep himself and the Lady on the beast. He noticed as they were galloping along, the Lady's hands had strayed and tangled themselves in the horse's mane. The horse seem to temper his strength as soon as her hands touched his skin, and Lonathe was infinity grateful for the reprieve in the hard pace. By the time they reached the ruins, Lonathe was thankful to get off the demon horse. Never in his life had he seen a more willful creature. And if the Lady was the only one to control it, may the heaven's help them all.

"I say my boy, it appears as though your beast is the leader for this little entourage. Almost as if you don't have to direct him at all." Raseac laughed as he and Belac entered the ruins. Their mounts stood placidly while watching the Demon Horse shy away from Lonathe with the Lady still on his back. The stallion was careful not to allow her to fall off but it took another thirty minutes before the demon beast would allow the Lady out of his sight once Lonathe got her down. Damn thing kept following him around, even after he tied him up four separate times. The loyalty this woman inspired in creatures was unheard of. Especially, when she hadn't been around it long enough to inspire it. It took the most amount of coaxing and explaining that the Lady needed rest inside the ruins: not on the back of a horse, demon or not. All the while Cam sat on a rock, laughing loudly in amusement.

"Having issues Lon?" Cam said as he tossed his mount his apple core. Said horse snatched the treat from mid-air and gobbled it down.

"Not one word Cam, not one word." Lonathe said as he stalked inside the ruins with the Lady in his arms. He brought her into the only part of the ruins that still had a roof for protection. Belac had a nice fire going and a bed made up for her. As he placed her on the make-shift bed, Lonathe noticed the Lady seemed more at peace now than she did before they docked. "She will awaken soon, there is no doubt about that. Belac watch over her, Cam and myself are going to make sure we are alone here. Let's move Cam, who knows what else lurks in this heap of stone besides us."

"As you wish, sir." Belac said stirring some more food into the stew he once again made for them for dinner. By the time the two warriors had returned and everyone had eaten the mood was very introspective. Each was pondering over the now peaceful Lady who seems to have crept into their world without so much as a by-your-leave. Eventually, each one drifted into sleep making note to take turns to watch over her. As always Belac had the first shift. Being lost in thought, Belac hardly recognized the slight signs of his patient waking a few hours later.

"My Lord, quickly! The Lady is waking." Belac whispered slightly.

"Cam get up you great oaf, she's waking up!" Lonathe said as he shoved his close friend.

"Now boys there is no need to get too excited yet. She hasn't even opened her eyes yet. Lonathe, I would not stand there if I were you." Raseac stated to the now hovering Lonathe. "She does need to breathe you know."

Sheepishly Lonathe slowly backed up a few paces and crouched down. Nearby Cam mirrored his position while also looking around for any change in their surroundings. A worried look crossed his face and doubts began to enter his mind. "Lon, we are going to have to move soon. What are we going to do with her? She will only slow us down more than we already are."

Lonathe grimaced. "What would you have me do? Let her wake alone without escorts. You know what Forest men will do to her as well as I do. Look what they did to your mother. Would you have that happen to her too? I can't turn my back to a defenseless woman, Cam. No matter what she might have done in her past." He shook his head as he gazed back towards the shifting woman.

Cam looked at him, mistrust written across his face. "Lon, you heard what Master Raseac said. She changed history. No one changes history that drastically, what type of person could accomplish that feat? Not only that, but Raseac even said that the King's father himself used her as an adviser. Everyone knows he never took anyone's advice. He would just go off to think for days at a time, and come back with ideas no one could possibly think of. Its what finally got him killed. His son has none of his brilliance and would kill anyone that stands in his way." Cam said with fear in his voice. "Defenseless or not, no good can come from taking her with us."

"Well, we shall just wait and see then" Lonathe then turned to face the woman who was just now opening her eyes. Struggling with each moment as if it was an eternity.

Darkness. Blinding abyss. _Have I finally died? Where is the tunnel of light and chorus of angels. Not __that I expect to actually be allowed to rest with my loved ones. Only those who are worthy get those, and Heaven knows my hands are bloodier than most. By all rights, I should be burning in eternal_ _flames_. _Strange,_ as murmurings reach through the blackness. _Am I not really dead, just deeply asleep?_ _Others are coming soon, they cannot find me here. I am too weak to fight right now. Must let the others know of the danger they are in. What danger? Have I gone mad?_

Ice, cold, burning heat, fire, strange voices. _What do they mean? Right, frozen in ice until the voices released me in a blaze of ice hot fire. Frozen, imprisoned more like. How long? Years, centuries perhaps. Memories dance across my waking conscience like a film in high speed_. Pain, Hatred, Hurt, Love, Fear, Hope, Loss. _So many emotions that I have not felt in so long_.

_Why do my eyes feel like plates of lead? Its not like I have done anything but blink in years_. Slight movements, shapes blur in and out of focus. The light of the fire makes my eyes burn, I am fairly certain I groaned in pain before someone blocked the firelight from my eyes. The mumblings are growing louder. _What are they saying? Don't they know its rude to speak in foreign tongues. Then again, I am guilty of that crime multiple times over._

I hear someone say something that seems to be addressed to me. Very formal, must be in their native tongue, however, I've not had a chance to study it. They try again in a different tongue, the words are at the tip of my tongue. They sound familiar to me. I should put them out of their misery in trying to communicate. The blurry images are starting to focus in the dim light. I can see that the Tall One from earlier is attempting to speak to me. _Funny, I would have thought the Old one would have taken the lead._ He seems familiar from a time long ago. Tilting my head towards the Tall One, noticing his impatience with not being able to communicate I should throw the poor guy a bone. Then again, _he hasn't done anything to merit my attention, short of my release. Must remember to kick him for that._

The odd quartet watched as they woman they all had grown so attached to began to open her eyes. It looked like she was finally going to regain consciousness for the first time in almost a month. Each were excited to finally be able to greet the woman they had been so carefully safeguarding. When her ice blue eyes finally opened they could see her struggling in the dim light to focus on each of their faces. Lonathe moved his body to block some of the fire light that was dancing across her face. In his impatience, Lonathe began speaking in his native tongue, forgetting she might not understand; "Good Eve, milady. My name is Lonathe Lesied. By what name might you call yourself?"

She focus briefly on him and confusion was etched into her face. Cam looked at Lonathe with a bit of unease, unsure as to what to do. Lonathe tried again in all of the languages he knew, thirteen in all, with the same results. Frustrated he turned to Lord Raseac, "What do we do now, Sir? She doesn't understand any of the known languages. Or some of the dead ones for that matter."

"Perhaps, because she has not had the time to adjust. Remember, she after all only just woke from her slumber." Raseac replied contemplating the difficulties a communication barrier would entail.

Looking at the group they all seemed quite contemplative. _Maybe they just realized I can't speak their language? This must be how the Egyptian kings would feel if they rose from the dead only to find their language had been dead for centuries. _

My body feels so weak. The bones like jelly, almost as if I didn't spend eternity tense inside a frozen cocoon. _Easy guess is that English won't be spoken here. Doubtful any of the three languages I know would be. _

_Well the only way to start to communicate will have to be with hand signals, my throat is too raw for words anyway._ _ First things, first. Time to at least sit up. There is no way I will even be able to remotely feel comfortable with them hovering above me like turkey vultures_. Rolling to my side proved to be challenging and waving off overly helpful hands to assist me, I finally manage the task. The young one had a bowl of some form of liquid. Not caring for the formalities the Tall One was attempting to perform. Most likely introductions, do they not realize water is a great necessity upon awaking? Tugging the bowl towards me takes most of my strength, and the boy looks flabbergasted at my actions.

The world begins to tilt on me before I can even raise the small bowl a few inches. Quickly the Tall One finds himself kneeling beside me, left knee and chest propping me up while his arms surround me. He lifts the bowl in one hand and as gently as he could manage, presses it to my lips.

_Oh, cool salvation_. I reach a hand to tilt the bowl to acquire more of the sweet nectar but even that is a challenge. My conscience is slipping, not again. There must be something to dull the senses in the water. _Stupid fool. You know better than to take things at face value._

Mumbling reaches through the darkness that is quickly enclosing her, she desperately tries to cling to it. Pulling herself back from the brink of unconsciousness is not an easy task. Each moment in the darkness, she senses her sanity slipping just that much closer to the edge of a line she has been toeing for ages. To step over that line would doom all she encounters. Even her new found companions can sense the subtle change from passive to volatile in less than a blink of an eye.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Do you think she is alright?" Cam asks as he watches her eyelids flutter shut again. "Fevers should not affect her as much as it has. Do you suppose they did not have Red Fever in her time?"

"Its possible that the length of her captivity has lowered her tolerance to disease. Imagine being frozen without food or water for centuries in suspended time. She is strong, and apparently not ready to give in easily to the Keeper's desire. What disturbs me is why the Keeper hasn't tried to claim her. Why has she been spared for however long when so many barely make it past infancy. Whomever she is protected by must favor her for some reason. We may never know," Lonathe mutters quietly. He gently lowers the woman back down onto the makeshift bed.

"With her healing nicely, shouldn't we deposit her in the nearest city and continue on our way. The King will not cease his search for Lord Raseac" Cam said. "We must think to his safety first, and she is a liability. An unknown, she might sooner slit our throats as save us."

Lonathe brushed a fallen lock of hair away from the Lady's face in a gentle caress. With care to make sure she was as comfortable as possible, Lonathe fixed the fallen blanket back over her before turning to look at Cam.

"She deserves a chance to prove herself. What happened to your sense of honor? Even if she isn't this fabled warrior, who does she have to look after her? What customs will she know? Can she even learn to speak? Until she can do that on her own, she is my ward. It is my doing that released her, if harm fell upon her before she is whole and hale enough to care for herself... Well, that is my duty and yours, as a knight, to ensure no danger shall befall her." Lonathe stated, his unspoken need to protect the seemingly fragile body next him lay unvoiced. The two companions merely sat and watched the flickering firelight for the rest of the night.

In a dark room, many miles away a man sits contemplating a series of reports when a messenger emerges from the shadows.

"Have you found them yet?"

"No Majesty, Lord Raseac seems to have chosen his companions well. Not only is Sir Lesied an excellent tracker, he knows most of these lands from personal experience; any attempts to follow him have failed. No doubt he is attempting to bring Lord Raseac to a sanctuary in the Northern Territories. If they are not already near the border to it, he will be nigh on impossible to trace once he gets there. Right now we suspect they are near or on the island of Eir. As you know my Lord, only thieves and bandits have lived on that forsaken island after your Father died. If we do not find them. The bandits will, and they will be easy fodder for so many murderers and savages."

"That is not enough! I want to crush them myself, even if it means destroying the entire island in the process I want them brought back. Raseac has defied me for the last time. He has what I want, and if I have to chase him across the empire, I will get my prize." _Yes_, he thought, _the Oracle shall finally belong to the rightful King. Father had no right to deny me access to the Oracles' power_.


End file.
